Hogswatch Night
by Morwen Tindomerel
Summary: Here's a seasonal offering, what one might call the missing chapters of 'Hogfather' ie: the bits where Death discovers what's going on and decides to 'fill in' for the missing Hogfather assisted, of course, by Albert and by his new ward Lily OC .
1. Chapter 1

Lily woke up in the room she'd always wanted. Its walls were soft blue, the ruffled muslin curtains and coverlet were sprigged with more blue and the white furniture was painted with cornflowers and blue-birds.

Because she was the lady of the house - and nearly fourteen years old - she wore her skirts all the way down to the floor and did her hair up on top of her head. This latter operation was an admittedly difficult one requiring a great many pins and usually had to be redone at least once and usually twice as the day wore on. When it finally looked as if her hair meant to stay where she put it, at least for the moment, she went downstairs to the dining room.

She opened the big mullioned window to the mild outside air, spread the cloth and set the table, then filled two cups with chocolate from the gently steaming pot. The door opened at exactly the right moment and her guardian came in.

"Good morning, Uncle," said Lily.

GOOD MORNING, LILY, said Death.

-----

Those familiar with Death's family history (if we may so characterize it) will wonder at him once again taking responsibility for a young girl. Death was quite surprised at it himself, but at the time there had seemed to be no alternative.

It had all begun with the annual epidemic of Putrid Fever in Pseudopolis. In a nice middle class home on Pseudoanonymous Street, Death had found a family of three all near expiring from the disease, but only the mother and thirteen year old daughter were due to come with him. This Mr. Grubb had flatly refused to permit. If anybody was to survive it must be their daughter Lily. She was just a child, she had her whole life before her.

Death was constrained to point out that, in fact, Lily had nothing whatever before her, and displayed her empty lifetimer as evidence. Horrified to discover that he, on the other hand, had forty-five more years of life stretching out in front of him Mr. Grubb had insisted on giving that time to his only child.

Death had been forced to admit that that was quite permissible and prepared to sever Mr. and Mrs. Grubb from their mortal coils. Whereupon the mother had raised the question of what was to become of the daughter as all their near relatives had also expired in the epidemic.

Somehow, exactly how he was never afterwards able to recall, Death found himself promising to look after the girl himself.

Albert, in the colorful Ankh-Morporkian idiom, had gone absolutely Bursar. "Are you stark, staring mad, master?" he shouted confronting Death and a bewildered Lily, still in her flannel nightdress, in Death's study. "Have you gone simple? Is there anything at all in that fine round cranium of yours?? Have you forgot what came of it last time? And what will Miss Susan have to say about all this?"

MISS SUSAN IS OFFENDED WITH US FOR INVOLVING HER IN OUR AFFAIRS, Death replied in eerily distant tones. SHE HAS MADE HER INTENTION OF LIVING A 'NORMAL' MORTAL LIFE QUITE CLEAR. I DO NOT THINK WE WILL BE SEEING MUCH OF HER IN THE FUTURE - PERHAPS NOTHING AT ALL.

Lily spoke for the first time, "Please, sir, who is Susan?"

MY GRANDDAUGHTER.

Lily contemplated that for several seconds. "You have a granddaughter?"

YES.

"Thirty odd years back the master here adopted a little girl named Ysabell," Albert took it upon himself to explain. "It ended in tears, as you might expect, and begging your pardon, master, you must have gone wiggy to put yourself through all that again!"

Lily then elected to assert herself for the first - but far from last time. "I am not the master's daughter, Albert, merely a ward. And I am not a little girl. I've been properly educated, I know all about running a house -"

"Excuse me!" Albert drew himself almost straight in his ratty tartan dressing gown. "This house is my business, missy!"

"Of course, Albert," Lily answered in the firm tone Mummy had always used with the maids. "But I intend to lend a hand, as a good mistress should. After all, there's going to be more work for you now."

Lily had indeed proved herself to be a very different sort of girl from Ysabell. She favored blue rather than pink, limited her chocolate intake to a cup in the morning and a few bon-bons after dinner, and she had absolutely no interest in romance. The fact that she was thirteen rather than sixteen probably had a lot to do with that last.

Lily liked history and geography and books about kings and queens, wizards and heroes. She abominated anything to do with figures or sports. She was devoted to her new gray pony, which she named Silkie, and to the baker's dozen of cats that Death had - as Albert saw it - been weak enough to let her bring with her . Not only that but she seemed unable to make a visit to the Disc without picking up one or two more moggies. And finally she thought Death's domain was 'amazing' and 'cool' the last causing Death some confusion as the Winter Garden was in fact a very small part of the grounds.

Even more unlike Ysabell, who had not had a domestic bone in her body, Lily held decided views about how Death's house should be run - that is on normal, middle-class lines. She insisted on a dining room and a parlor and once they'd been created went shopping for the necessary furniture and ornaments in Ankh-Morpork as Lily liked color. She also imposed upon the two crusted old bachelors the first daily routine ever seen in the domain - despite the handicap of a total absence of either sun or moon or working clocks to measure the non-time.

Albert grumbled and sulked - until he discovered serving regular meals in the new dining room meant that he could keep his kitchen all to himself. Lily's announcement that she, of course, meant to look after the new rooms herself also went a long way towards reconciling Albert to the changes. Even better he found that Lily agreed with him entirely on the subject of nutrition - to wit, she wanted none of it.

Death himself remained a slightly bemused bystander, creating rooms and taking his new ward on shopping trips as requested and falling uncomplainingly in with her ways. He had wanted to live like a mortal hadn't he? To see how it felt and to try to understand humans better. And Lily was about the only mortal he'd ever met who was happy to help him do so.

----

Albert came in with the breakfast tray, trailed by several cats. He had scrambled eggs, lightly browned; hashed potatoes, also well browned; sliced ham, a covered muffin dish and a big bowl of fruit.

"Oranges, grapes, figs and pineapple, in the middle of Icke!" Lily exclaimed. "Albert you are a wonder."

Studying his man's face carefully Death was almost sure he saw rather more color than usual behind the stubble. "It's no credit to me, miss. You can grow anything you like in this climate."

"Only if you ask, Uncle for help," Lily returned. "And he told me you didn't over the pineapples." She smiled fetchingly. "Do let me be impressed, Albert."

He returned the smile baring nicotine stained teeth. Death was certain he heard the creak of unaccustomed muscles. "Just as you please, miss," said Albert and went back to the kitchen. The cats settled themselves on the empty chairs or the rug, eyes fixed with un-winking concentration on the table.

Lily loaded a plate and passed it to Death. Most of the food was meant for him. She seldom ate anything but muffins and fruit with her morning chocolate, but she insisted that a gentleman needed to fill up before his day's business.

Death occasionally wondered about this - surely the girl could see he had nowhere to put it? - but chose to humor her. In fact he found himself enjoying Lily's little attentions. Ysabell had been quite attentive too, in her different way. Death hadn't realized how much he'd missed that.

"Will you be lunching at home, Uncle?" Lily asked, as she did every morning.

Death's answer varied, some times were busier than others. Today he planned to see to the some routine work among the sub-sentients. He calculated and decided.

NO.

"Be sure to stop for a curry, or at least coffee and a bun then," Lily said, just as Mummy used to tell Dads.

I WILL.

----

Back down on the Disc it was nearly Hogswatch - or so Uncle said - and Lily intended to celebrate the feast as usual. Which was how she came to be decking the hall with boughs of Llamedos holly - fa-la-la-la - with Albert's assistance. Suddenly a door opened in the air, blue light and Uncle came through the latter dripping water all over the floor.

SOMETHING IS WRONG.

Albert looked around, sniffing the air dubiously. He frowned. "You know, master, I think you're right."

"You're soaked!" said Lily, then focused on the important issue. "What do you mean 'wrong'?"

THERE HAS BEEN A MAJOR ALTERATION OF THE DISC'S METAPHYSICAL FIELD.

"Must be huge if we're feeling the echoes here," Albert said worriedly.

Lily knew that metaphysics was something wizards did. "Magic?" she asked. "You mean something's gone magically wrong?"

IN ESSENCE. Death thrust his scythe into the umbrella holder and stalked towards the passage to his study, robes clinging damply rather than furling with the speed of his motion.

Albert looked at the puddles on the floor and muttered something about getting a mop. Lily splashed after her uncle. He'd gone right past the study and into the lifetimer room. this was a broad and long - very, very long - hall diminishing to a point in the far distance, and lined with tens of thousands of shelves holding million upon millions of lifetimers - magical hourglasses in all shapes and styles - measuring the times of all things' lives.

The huge room sounded with the susurration of flowing sand, punctuated by the pops and pings of lifetimers appearing and disappearing as Birth and Death went on in the usual way. To Lily's surprise a section of the shelving had swung out and behind it was another, rather smaller lifetimer room - this one being only the size and height of a standard cathedral - But the hourglasses were huge and somehow insubstantial - like so many oddly shaped soap bubbles.

Uncle stood in a spreading puddle, staring down at the floor. "You'll catch your death!" Lily scolded, unconscious of irony, then she saw what he was looking at. Shards of glass glittering in a pile of sand. A hand went to her mouth. She knew all about lifetimers, she'd even seen her own, this had to be bad.

"Is whoever it is dead?" she half whispered.

GODS CANNOT DIE. NOT TILL THE DEATH OF ALL. THEY CAN HOWEVER BE REDUCED TO A POINT SO CLOSE TO NON-EXISTENCE AS TO BE EFFECTIVELY THE SAME.

Lily looked around. A name flashed at her from the shimmering surface of a huge lifetimer, Blind Io. "These are the gods' lifetimers?"

GODS, ANTHROPOMORPHIC PERSONIFICATIONS AND SIMILAR BEINGS, Uncle confirmed.

Lily looked back at the shards and the sand. "How could a lifetimer in here be broken?"

BY DISBELIEF.

"People just don't stop believing in a god all at once." that was Albert, pushing a mop and frowning. "Faith dwindles, believers die off or convert to other gods. The lifetimer shrinks, it doesn't shatter. We've seen it dozens of times, master."

WE HAVE, Death agreed. THIS IS SOMETHING NEW. SOMEHOW BELIEF HAS BEEN EXTINGUISHED ALMOST INSTANTLY...I WOULD NOT HAVE THOUGHT IT POSSIBLE.....

"Which god is it?" Lily asked.

THE HOGFATHER answered Death.


	2. Chapter 2

Clearly a visit to the Castle of Bones was called for - and the sooner the better which in Death's case meant almost instantly. The three of them appeared - with audible pops - beneath the soaring pillars of the castle entrance. Lily, who Death had thoughtfully provided with a fur lined parka, touched a glassy, greeny-gray column with knobby ends, faintly suggestive of a femur or other long bone.

"This isn't bone, it's ice!"

THAT IS CORRECT.

The floor was also ice, like greeny smoked glass, sprinkled with salt crystals that crunched underfoot and prevented slipping. Death, frost forming on his still damp robes, stalked deeper into the castle followed by Lily and Albert. A sleigh stood, facing the doors. It was massive and crudely built of roughly squared tree trunks and either carved or knotted in strange designs that looked like faces - and not very pleasant faces at that.

Beyond the sleigh a pale throne shone down on them from a high pyramidal dais. It was empty. The vast hall with its rib-like vaulting and bony pillars was empty and silent and not a sound floated through the many soaring arches leading off to gods knew where.

"Nobody home," said Albert.

"Do you think...will his body be anywhere about?" Lily asked nervously.

NO, said Death.

"Don't look like there's anybody about," said Albert.

INCORRECT. Death turned slowly, raised a long and bony finger to point at a distant arch. THERE IS SOMEBODY THROUGH THERE. And a split second later so were they.

Four massive, bristly, red eyed and long tusked boars grunted suspiciously at the three of them from their pen in the middle of the castle yard. "Oh, look!" Lily was enchanted. "It's Gouger and Rooter and Tusker and Snouter!"

SO I SEE.

"I don't think they're going to be able to tell us much, master," said Albert.

NO, BUT HE CAN. It was only then that Albert and Lily became aware of somebody watching them from the dark doorway of the sty.

COME HERE, said Death. Nothing moved, except for the boars' heads as they turned to look over their shoulders. I SAID COME HERE!

A large and hairy figure crept cringingly from the security of the sty. There was bristly black hair on his head, but none on his chin. Deeply bronzed and heavily muscled bare arms and legs stuck out from his brief tunic of un-tanned boar's skin. Big dark eyes peered out from under the tangled bangs with white showing all the way around them. He staggered forward a few steps, then dropped to his knees with a whimper.

Lily looked up at her uncle in surprise, and was forced to admit that a seven foot tall skeleton in a quick frozen black robe might be a rather alarming sight to somebody who didn't know him well. Come to think of it, Albert wasn't what you'd call a reassuring figure either.

Similar thoughts had clearly occurred to Death. THERE IS NO NEED TO COWER, BRIEF MORTAL. YOUR TIME IS NOT YET. WE MERELY SEEK INFORMATION CONCERNING THE FATE OF THE HOGFATHER.

Lily stepped forward, reasoning that a huge man couldn't possibly be frightened of a wisp of a girl in a white parka. "I'm Lily, this is Death (1) and that's Albert. What is your name?"

NORBY, ASSISTANT PIG-KEEPER, Uncle answered for him, not helping at all.

Lily shot him a look and turned back to the quivering man. "How do you do, Norby. Please, can you tell us what's happened to the Hogfather?"

His face crumpled and for a moment Lily was afraid she was about to see a grown man - or nearly grown - cry. "I don't know!"

---

The dining room fire warmed their outsides and the hot chocolate their insides. Uncle's melting robe dripped on the Klatchian carpet as the four of them sat around the table listening to Norby's story.

It had been a perfectly ordinary day - what passed at the Castle of Bones for ordinary that is. Very busy of course, because Hogswatch was right around the corner. The pixies were putting in serious overtime in the workshops and Mrs. Hogfather and her helpers were baking and roasting up a storm in her cavernous kitchens.

Norby, a Hubland tribesman by birth, had been found as a snot-nosed boy crying in the snow one Hogswatchnight and taken in by the Hogfather. He was the only human about the place - Mrs. Hogfather being an ex-Valkyrie. It was his job to help look after the boars. Norby mucked out their pen, and carried slops and watched over them during the short Hubland summer when they were allowed to range the forests in search of food.

This morning he'd gotten up early as usual, stoked the ovens for the Missis and her crew, then carried the steaming pails of slops out to the boars. As he poured their contents into the trough suddenly everything had gone silent. The hammering from the workshops, the shouts, the singing all stopped - just like that.

He dropped the pails and ran back inside to find - nobody! Pies were baking and meat roasting in the kitchens. Tools and half-made toys littered the workbenches, the Hogfather's tankard of ale stood abandoned on the arm of his throne and everybody, down to the littlest pixie, had vanished.

Poor Norby had wandered the echoing halls and called 'til he was hoarse then finally gone back outside to comfort himself with the company of the only other living things about the place. He'd been sitting on the straw, trying to think what to do, when Death and his party had arrived.

THIS IS VERY SERIOUS, said Death, a point nobody felt inclined to argue. "NORBY, YOU WILL RETURN TO THE CASTLE AND LOOK AFTER YOUR PIGS. I WILL JOIN YOU AS SOON AS I DECIDE WHAT IS TO BE DONE.

Norby stood straight. "Yessir!"

"Will you be all right?" Lily asked in concern, remembering the huge empty castle.

"Oh yes, miss," he answered confidently. "It was the not knowing that was getting me down, if you see what I mean. Besides, it's my job to look after the boys. The Hogfather'd be pretty sore with me if I left them alone for long."

Death snapped his fingers and Norby vanished. I WILL BE IN MY STUDY, he told Albert and Lily.

----

Lily and Albert went to the kitchen for a belated lunch. "It must be some kind of magic," said Lily, swallowing a mouthful of her fried cheese sandwich. "Is there such a thing as a spell of disbelief, Albert?"

"Of course," he answered, playing with his fried slice. "But not on this scale - no wizard would have the power."

"Could you do it, Albert?"

He shook his head decisively. "Naw. A city maybe, but enough people to make the Hogfather disappear - never."

"And as everybody knows you're the greatest wizard who ever lived," Lily said thoughtfully. (2) "So it really can't be done....But then what did happen?"

"The master will find out," Albert said confidently. "Nothing gets past him."

After helping Albert wash up Lily decided to take her ride. It was late for it, but Silkie had to have her exercise - and it wasn't as if waiting around the house would do any good. It was all up to Uncle now.

She went upstairs to change into her blue and white riding habit, picked up the folded letter from the writing desk - and hesitated. She almost sat down and added an account of the trouble but even as she thought of it she got a sneaking feeling that the fewer in the know the better - so she didn't.

The skirt of the habit was overlong, so as to cover her feet when mounted, Lily carried its fullness over her arm and led Silkie by the bridle through Albert's kitchen garden, with several of the cats trailing behind or running on ahead. Girl and animals skirted the Lawn of Pitiless Infinity and Tennis and took a branching path through a copse of trees to a perfectly round depression in the blackish grass with a white hole at its center. A gentle breeze spiraled, like the path, around and - unlike the path - into the Pit of Souls

According to Uncle the spirits of the dead passed through the Pit on their way to, well, wherever they were going. If one listened carefully one could hear voices sighing on the breeze, the voices of the dearly departed faintly repeating their last words.

Lily very carefully did not listen having discovered that last words tended towards either inarticulate screams of agony, very private utterances to the near and dear, very bad language, or brief remarks that made one despair of human intelligence such as: 'Is it red and yellow kill a fellow, or the other way around?' 'The older the meat the more tender it is.' or 'No, I don't hear any rumbling.'

She took her folded and sealed letter, dropped it into the Pit and watched it flutter and spiral its way downward until it was lost in the light. Everybody went where they expected to go after death, so Uncle had told her, which of course meant that Mummy and Dads had to be in Sek's Third Heaven, the green one with the fields of flowers and the City of Emeralds. She had reasoned that the Pit must lead straight to that heaven, as well as all the others, and decided it was worth a try.

And it had worked! Her first letter had been answered by one from Mummy and Dads which had appeared mysteriously on the edge of the Pit. They wrote that the Third Heaven was just as lovely as the priests said and they were settling in nicely. The Hand maidens were very helpful and they were meeting such interesting people! She was to be a good girl, do as her guardian told her, and live a long and happy life. They would see her when it was over and in the meantime they could write each other.

It made a tremendous difference. Mummy and Dads weren't lost, they were just - elsewhere. Like the summer they'd gone to Chirm and left her with Grandma and Grandpa Tooley. She still missed them of course, but it didn't hurt as it had when she'd thought of them as dead.

After posting her letter Lily mounted Silkie and rode at a walk through the orchard, where she plucked an apple, and past the beehives where she dismounted briefly. The bees of Death's country were large and fuzzy and black and stingless. They hummed placidly around her and didn't seem to mind a bit when she took a shiny white comb of their honey. Then it was through the Winter Garden, where she lost the last of the cats who didn't enjoy cold. The fresh white snow crunched under hoof and elaborate displays of icicles glittered in the eternal starlight.

Ducking her head Lily passed under a yew arch and out onto the moors beyond Death's garden. These had had a rough, unfinished look when Lily first came, more a rolling impression of black 'surface' than anything else. But gradually, over the months, they'd come to resemble a darker version of the familiar moors near Pseudopolis with prickly black growth resembling gorse and broom and clumps of blossoming purple heather, stone outcroppings and the occasional cromlech, standing stone or barrow. There were even little pebbly brooks making a tinkling counterpoint to the constant, ocean-like rustle of wind through the heather and etc.

Lily stopped at a high, flat rock overlooking a little waterfall, just like Picnic Rock back home only black, and settled down to eat her apple and honey while Silkie browsed among the gorse and broom. The skin of Death's apples was a shiny red-black - not a dark red you understand but a black with a kind of elusive redness about it - and the flesh was shockingly white and piercingly sweet. The honey too was black, like congealed smoke, with a deep, rich sweetness that put chocolate to shame. Lily had developed quite a taste for both. Albert, rather oddly, only served ordinary red apples and pots of white honey from the Disc, presumably because he didn't like the local product. Lily had noticed he didn't have much of a sweet tooth.

Finishing her snack, she dabbled her hands in the icy stream to get rid of the stickiness, filled the tin cup from her saddle bag and drained it, then looked at Silkie. "Shall we ride a little longer or go home?" The pony raised her head at the sound of her mistress's voice and looked back intelligently but inarticulately. "We'll go back," Lily decided.

She took her time with the currying but eventually she had to go in. Albert was pottering restlessly around his kitchen dripping ashes everywhere.

"No news yet?" Lily asked, knowing the answer.

"Not a peep," Albert said. "Can't think what's taking so long. I mean you can't hide nothing from Death - I know!"

"Not even the gods," Lily agreed.

Albert sighed. "How about a cuppa?"

Lily was about to accept when the bell rang. She and Albert exchanged an eager yet anxious look before hurrying to obey the summons.

-----

1. Surely one of the most unnecessary social introductions in the history of the Disc, but Lily didn't think of that until later - much later.

2. Needless to say this opinion, sincerely held by Lily, went a long way towards making Albert feel much more friendly towards her. No man, be he ever so gnarled and crusty with age, is entirely immune to female admiration!


	3. Chapter 3

Death sat behind his big desk. The top was covered with open books written in esoteric scripts and littered with strange devices bearing a remote family relationship to sextants and astrolabes and the like.

THEY ARE MEDDLING, he said portentously. AGAIN.

Lily looked politely blank but Albert understood all right. "Oh gods! NOT those little grey buggers again!" He remembered the company he was in and shot an apologetic sideways glance at the young mistress. "Sorry, miss."

"That's quite all right, Albert," she assured him, having more important things than bad language on her mind. "What little grey - persons - would those be?"

Death steepled his finger bones. CONSCIOUSNESS IS EVERYWHERE. ON OTHER WORLDS, IN OTHER UNIVERSES, IT IS DIFFERENT BUT HERE IN OURS NATURAL FORCES - EVEN IDEAS - HAVE CONSCIOUSNESS, EVEN INDIVIDUALITY, OF A SORT.

"Like you," said Lily.

EXACTLY. I, AND WAR AND FAMINE AND PESTILENCE. FATE AND DESTINY AND LUCK. TRUTH AND LIE AND ALL THE REST. BUT THERE ARE OTHER FORCES WHICH DEAL WITH THE MECHANICS OF THE UNIVERSE. THOSE WHO WE CALL THE AUDITORS OF REALITY. THEY GOVERN MOTIONS OF THE STARS, OF STONES, OF THE TINIEST ATOMS. THEY HAVE CONSCIOUSNESS BUT NOT INDIVIDUALITY, THAT IS INSTANTLY FATAL TO THEM. THEY ARE EMOTIONLESS. THEY DESIRE ONLY ORDER AND REGULARITY. THEY HATE LIFE FOR ITS RANDOMNESS, ITS UNTIDY DISORGANIZATION. AND ABOVE ALL THEY HATE HUMANKIND.

"For being individuals," Lily guessed.

YES. FOR ASKING QUESTIONS AND MAKING UP ANSWERS. FOR IMPOSING THEIR OWN FASHION OF DISORDER UPON THE UNIVERSE. FOR HAVING IMAGINATION AND DREAMS.

"All that?" said Lily.

ALL THAT.

"And they're none to fond of the master here either," put in Albert. "Last time it was him they went after." He looked at Death, puzzled. "But why the Hogfather? What's he done to set them off?"

EXIST, Death answered grimly. And nobody could be grimmer than he when the mood was on him. BUT HE IS NOT THE TRUE TARGET. HUMANITY IS. THEY SEEK TO DESTROY THAT WHICH MAKES HUMANS HUMAN.

Albert looked puzzled. "Which is?"

BELIEF. FAITH IN IMPONDERABLES. THE HOGFATHER IS ONLY THE TIP, THE LEADING EDGE, BUT WITHOUT HIM ALL MAY FALL."

Albert reflected, realized. "Oh gods."

YES.

Lily grasped the point too. Once you stop believing where does it end? "What can we do?"

WE MUST RESTORE FAITH IN THE HOGFATHER. HOGSWATCHNIGHT MUST PROCEED AS USUAL. SOMEBODY MUST TAKE HIS PLACE.

"Like who?" Albert wondered.

Death cocked his skull and gave him a long, ice and fire blue stare.

Albert's eyes popped. "No! You can't be serious, master."

WHO ELSE IS THERE? Death asked reasonably.

------

Who else indeed?

Death sat, solemnly taking notes, as Lily and Albert dredged up everything they could remember about how the Hogfather operated.

"I know they say he carries gifts to all the good children in the world," Albert was saying. "But it's not so."

"It isn't?" Lily asked, surprised.

The former wizard shook his head. "Nope. He only operates on the home continent. The Klatchians, the Howondalanders and the Agateans don't believe in him so they don't get any gifts.

"That's sad," said Lily.

"Not really." Albert shrugged. "They got holidays of their own."

NOT KLATCH OR HOWONDALAND OR THE EMPIRE, Death muttered, writing. HOW MANY CHILDREN DOES THAT LEAVE?

Lily and Albert exchanged helpless looks.

"Millions," she said.

"Tens of millions," he corrected.

LET US SAY AROUND 20 MILLIONS, Death suggested, pencil moving rapidly as he calculated. AT TWO POUNDS OF TOYS PER CHILD....17,857 TONS....1,785 PER HOUR. He looked up. IS THAT POSSIBLE?

"It is for the Hogfather," Lily said firmly. "It's magic."

"Time isn't a problem for you now is it, master?" added Albert.

TRUE. WHAT ELSE?

"Well, the Hogfather slides down the chimney and fills the stockings," said Lily.

"You'll want to leave sooty footprints, master."

"Right," Lily agreed. "Otherwise kids will think it's just their parents."

WILL THEY?

"Oh, yes. I remember Annie Potts telling everybody in the First Form there was no Hogfather, it was just your mum and dad playing tricks."

"There's always one," Albert agreed.

SO DISBELIEF IS NOT NEW... Death mused.

"Yeah, but the point is the kid was wrong and everybody but him knew it," Albert explained.

"Because of the sooty footprints," Lily added.

I SEE. Death made a note.

"And sometimes, if you were still awake, you'd hear the Hogfather laugh," said Lily.

"Really?" Albert asked interestedly. "I never did."

"Well it was only once, when I was six. Scared me all to pieces too."

LAUGH? Death did so. Albert winced. Lily flinched. WHAT IS WRONG?

"Not ha ha ha - ho ho ho," said Lily.

HO. HO. HO?

"That's more like it, master," Albert said encouragingly. "But deeper, from the diaphram.

I DON'T BELIEVE I HAVE A DIAPHRAM.

"Well, deeper anyway."

HO. HO. HO. - HO. HO. HO. HO. - HO. HO. HO. HO. HO. - HO. HO. HO.

Albert and Lily listened critically. "Better," Albert said at last.

"But not quite there," said Lily.

I WILL PRACTICE. Death made another note.

"Emmy Malts once told me she'd actually seen the Hogfather filling her stocking," Lily said worriedly.

Albert shook his head. "Probably just tale spinning, you know what kids are."

"Yes, but Polly Breadford said she had too, and I did hear him that time. Uncle had better wear the red robes, just in case."

Albert nodded reluctantly. "Guess he'd better at that. And a beard.

BEARD?

"Going to be a problem keeping it on," Albert continued meditatively.

"I wish there was some way to plump him out a little," Lily went on unhappily. "Maybe padding?"

"At least a cushion," Albert agreed.

CUSHION?

"You have to have a belly, master."

"A big round belly that shakes when you laugh like a bowl full of hogfoot jelly," said Lily. The impossibility of it all smote her heavily. "Oh dear."

"We'll have to settle for a cushion," said Albert. "One of the big ones from the parlor sofa."

"Or maybe two," said Lily.

CUSHION. Death wrote that down too.

----

HOW DO I LOOK?

"Like Death, master," Albert sighed. (1)

"Death dressed up like the Hogfather," Lily agreed. "Oh dear."

Lily and Albert between them had cobbled together a hooded robe of red velvet trimmed with white fur that was already beginning to come loose in spots. The false beard had given quite a lot of trouble as Death had no ears to hook it over but some string had finally done the trick. A cushion, secured in place by a wide black belt, proved a singularly unconvincing simulation of a belly. In fact the overall effect was just plain wrong.

"Maybe we shouldn't be the ones doing this, master," Albert ventured.

THERE IS NOBODY ELSE. UNLESS YOU HAVE A SUGGESTION, ALBERT?

Of course he didn't. He looked helplessly at Lily.

"We'll just have to hope nobody gets a good look at him," she said resignedly.

"Ah, well," said Albert with determined optimism. "If nothing else it'll help the master stay in character now won't it?"

-----

1. Credit for this exchange should go to Atrophy-Conception who first wrote it in 'Promises To Be Kept' in which Death redecorates and falls for the young woman he's hired. To make things worse she finds herself thinking rather yearningly of the tall, skeletal guy with the black robe and scythe. You want to talk disfunctional romances?


	4. Chapter 4

It was the night before Hogswatch and every creature in Death's Domain was astir, except for the Death of Rats who had decamped in indignation when the cats moved in. Those same cats now stood, sat and lay about the big dark hall, a fascinated audience watching with fixed, unblinking eyes as Albert and Lily worked on Death's costume.

"Hold on, Master, nearly got it -" Albert said from the top of stepladder, struggling with the strings holding the long, fluffy white beard in place.

"A second cushion does not help," Lily declared firmly surveying her uncle critically. "In fact I think it's worse."

HO, said Death practicing. HO, HO. HO, HO, HO! I THINK I'VE GOT IT.

"Not bad," Lily agreed in a rather too encouraging tone as she refastened his belt over just one cushion.

Albert arranged the fur trimmed hood over Death's skull. I CANNOT SEE.

"Sorry, Master... that better?"

NOT MUCH.

"You've got to keep it pulled down low, Uncle, otherwise they'll see you're not the real Hogfather."

WILL ANYBODY SEE ME?

"Miss Lily's right, Master. We can't take the chance."

TRUE. Death consulted some inner sense. TIME TO GO.

----

Lily, Albert and a red costumed Death popped into existence by the Hogfather's throne in the great hall of the Castle of Bones. Norby had the sled all ready. The sacks were piled high and the one at the top was slightly open revealing a precariously balanced teddy-bear; a wooden soldier in a uniform that would have stood out in a disco; a toy drum and an improbably large candy cane.

Gouger, Rooter, Tusker and Snouter were in their harness. They were very large and very bristly. Their little piggy eyes glowed red and their white tusks gleamed. They also smelled - none of which kept Lily from going right up to Rooter and petting him, then moving on to spread her attentions impartially between the four.

"Here's the list, sir," Norby handed Death a large rolled scroll.

Death looked at it, nonplussed. LIST?

"You check it, Master," Albert prompted helpfully.

"Twice," Lily added.

Death let the bottom of the roll thump to the snow drifted floor and studied the closely written seven foot length of parchment so revealed in some bewilderment. CHECK FOR WHAT?

"Whether they've been naughty or nice, remember?" Lily said patiently.

OH.

"Don't worry about it, sir," Norby said reassuringly. "The Hogfather's already been all through it. But you've got to check - twice, like the young lady said - it's traditional."

VERY WELL. Death sat down on the steps of the throne and let the list run through his fingerbones as he scanned it. Lily picked up the end and re-rolled it as he went.

"Nice hat," Albert said to Norby with a bit of a snicker. The hat in question was green and pointed with a bell at the tip. It was also several sizes too small.

Norby blushed. "The Hogfather always takes a pixie or two with him to help. Since all of them are gone I thought I'd better stand in."

NO, Death raised his head from the list and fixed the blue points of light in his eye sockets on the young man. ALBERT WILL ASSIST ME. I HAVE OTHER WORK FOR YOU, NORBY. AND FOR LILY."

"Me?" Lily looked surprised but delighted. "What can I do?"

FIND THE HOGFATHER.

Norby frowned a little. "How do we do that?"

YOU TWO ARE BELIEVERS. FOLLOW YOUR BELIEF.

----

Unlike Susan Lily had not suffered the rigors of a 'rational' education. She had read all the right books and such gnomic instructions dismayed her not a wit. Norby, having spent his entire life with an anthropomorphic personification, was equally unperturbed. They went out the gaping doors of the Castle of Bones and down the long flight of icy green steps to the snow blanketed ground and a little ways in among the trees, then stopped and looked at each other uncertainly.

Then a wren chirped. A wren who had absolutely no business being out and about in the frozen permanent winter of the hub. A wren who should have been sunning herself on some Klatchian beach this time of year. A wren who was giving them the impatient eye.

Lily and Norby looked at each other again, primeval memories stirring like a thick, black blood soup. The wren launched herself into the air fluttering eastward under the tree cover, careful to keep in sight. Norby and Lily followed.

Norby, booted now and with a bearskin wrap over his brief tunic, plowed through the snow knee deep. Lily walked lightly on top of the drifts leaving no prints behind, her head on level with the boy's. Neither of them gave any thought to this phenomena. Both understood perfectly well that they were not in the real world and normal rules no longer applied. Nor had either of them any problem with that. In fact it all seemed quite natural - in a supernatural sort of way.

At first the forest was silent, except for the occasional crack of an overloaded branch and wump of a load of snow hitting the ground. Then, faint with distance came the yelp of hounds and the voices of men shouting in glee and excitement.

Norby and Lily hurried. The sounds of dogs and men grew louder as they grew closer. It was a hunting party in full chase, the hounds invisible but very audible to the fore, the men dodging between the trees as they ran. They were crudely dressed in skins and furs, not unlike Norby, and carried bows and spears.

Norby broke into a run himself, rapidly overtaking the hunters. Lily took a step after him -and found herself in another place, a hollow clearing hemmed in with trees, their tangled, black branches framing a circle of icy pale sky. A small frozen river or large stream, depending on whether you were a half-empty or half-full kind of person, circled around three sides of the clearing and the white snow was dimpled with a trail of cloven prints leading to a gigantic boar at bay, back to the thin ice.

He stood silhouetted, blue-black against all the whiteness, huge and real - realer than the trees and snow. The hunters' dogs exploded from the fringe of trees like so many furry guided missiles only to pull up, safely out of reach, when the boar snorted and shoot his heavy head, tusks as long as Lily's arm showing yellow against the snow. His eyes, dark and lucent, swept the half circle of bristling, wary hounds and briefly met Lily's. Then she knew. For someone looked back at her, someone she'd known all her life, though she'd never till this moment set eyes on him.

The hunters had reached the edge of the clearing now, staying carefully within the cover of the trees. Whistles brought the dogs slinking back to them, obedient and very relieved. A flight of dark arrows arched high and powdered the ground around the Hogfather boar, a few puncturing his high arched back.

Lily saw the blood trickling down his sides and screamed a high, shrill, little girl scream.

"Nooooooo!" Norby burst through the ring, sending several hunters flying, to plant himself before the Hogfather, arms spread. "No!" he panted. "You can't, you can't."

The hunters clearly did not agree. There was some angry muttering among them then Lily saw a bow raised, arrow knocked, and cried; STOP!

And they did.

In fact everything did. Men and dogs stood, caught between one breath and the next. The just released arrow hung motionless in the air beside the archer's cheek. The very flakes of snow failed to fall, hovering in midair.

After a stunned moment Lily hurried forward to touch one of Norby's upraised arms. "Not you!"

He blinked, lowered his arms, looked down at her. "I didn't know you could do that."

"Me either." She shot a look towards the frozen hunters and shrugged. "This is a magic place, and I am a believer."

That made sense to Norby. Behind them the Hogfather snorted, they turned to face him. He did not look at all friendly.

Norby dropped to his knees in the snow. "Hogfather, Father, please - it's me, it's Norby."

Lily said nothing. The Hogfather didn't know her personally.

"Please, Father, please," Norby was near tears. "Don't you know me? You must know me!"

There was a long, fraught pause - at least it seemed so to the two youngsters. Then the Hogfather took one, uncertain step forward.

Norby gave a half sob of relief. "Father!" And the boar came all the way up to him and blew gently on his cheek. The young man's arms went around the great neck and he wept into the stiff, dark fur.

Lily shot uneasy looks at the motionless forms of the hunters, uncertain of just how long the magic would last. Fortunately Norby recovered himself quickly. He ran his hands along the Hogfather's back and plucked out the two or three arrows - they hadn't penetrated deeply. Lily, remembering narrative conventions, tore the bottom ruffle from her petticoat and Norby pressed the folded cloth against the wounds until they stopped bleeding.

The hunters still hadn't come back to life. It looked like they were going to stay frozen as long as Lily and Norby needed them too.

Lily knelt by the Hogfather's head. "Everything's going to be all right, sir," she said, stroking his bristles. "Death knows what's going on and he has a plan to put things right."

"He's out now delivering the presents. Hogswatch will come this year, same as ever." Norby added encouragingly.

"And people will have to start believing again," Lily finished. She wasn't sure how much - if any - of this the Hogfather understood in his present form. But at the very least he knew that she and Norby were friends he could trust.

"We should take him home," said Norby.

Lily nodded. That made sense, certainly more sense than continuing to stand out here in the cold surrounded by hunters who might come back to life at any minute!


	5. Chapter 5

It wouldn't have been respectful to herd the Hogfather. Fortunately it also was unnecessary, he seemed perfectly happy to follow them through the still frozen hunting party and back the way they'd come.

There was no sign of the wren. Doubtless she'd gone back to her Klatchian beach. Her work here was done.

The way back was far shorter than the way forward had been - isn't it always? - but there was a shock waiting for them at the end of it. The wooded valley was just as they'd left it, but the hill at the far end showed round and smooth under its blanket of snow. The Castle of Bones was clean gone!

Norby stopped dead and gaped in horror at the place where his home had been. Lily frowned. This could not be good.

"The castle is gone!" Norby cried, stating the obvious. "What happened to it?"

"I don't know." Lily shook her head, frown deepening, then looked at the Hogfather rooting contentedly in the snow under the trees. "He doesn't much need a castle in his present condition, does he?"

Norby looked too. "Well, we found him," he said, still playing Mr. Obvious. "Now what? How do we change him back?"

"No idea." Lily flopped down on a convenient stump, prepared to wait. "Uncle will know. When he gets back from giving the presents he'll put things right."

"Death?" Norby said dubiously. Clearly he was having trouble thinking of a seven foot skeleton with a scythe as the answer to all his problems.

"Death knows *everything*, Norby," Lily said seriously. "What was, what is and what will be. He is the ultimate reality, nothing can be hidden from him." She blinked, where had all that come from? It was true - but how did she know it? She dismissed the thought. No doubt Uncle or more probably Albert had told her so. Yes, it had been Albert - she remembered now.

"But he's not exactly in the business of fixing things is he?" Thorby worried, keeping a wary eye on the Hogfather as he wandered along the edging of trees. "I mean he's like War or Pestilence isn't he? A destroyer."

"Oh no!" Lily said firmly. "That's quite wrong. The dead aren't destroyed, Norby, just - elsewhere. Wherever they expect to go. It's true. My parents are dead but they're not gone, they're in Sek's third heaven and they're *happy*. " She looked up at him and her eyes shone with a bluish light that might have been a reflection of the aurora corialis shimmering overhead. "The Living fear Death, and rightly for Life is a great gift. But the Dead would not willingly live again if they could. THERE IS NO END, NO LOSS, ONLY CHANGE. She smiled a smile far too old and wise for her adolescent face. AND ALL THINGS FEAR CHANGE ABOVE ALL ELSE.

Norby took a nervous step backward from her. "What happened to your voice?"

She blinked and looked thirteen years old again. "What? What about my voice?"

"It sounded different, just now," he said. "Like it was in my head rather than in my ears."

"Really?" she said a little blankly. Then she shrugged. "Well, we are in a strange place. I guess we have to expect strange things to happen."

"Gods know that's true!" Norby agreed, looking unhappily at the gigantic, rooting boar that was his foster father. "I sure hope you're right about Death being able to get things back to normal."

"He knows what he's doing," Lily said confidently.

-----

It was a very long night. Fortunately it wasn't particularly cold, despite all the snow. Norby was perfectly happy in his bearskin and Lily's parka seemed more than adequate. The Hogfather continued to snout around the roots of trees for old acorns and Norby and Lily sat on the stump and talked.

"So - everybody goes where they expect to?"

"That's what uncle says," Lily agreed.

"Then if a bad person thinks he deserves to go somewhere good; or a good one thinks he deserves a bad place that's what happens?" Norby shook his shaggy head. "It doesn't seem fair."

Lily smiled. "I wouldn't be too sure of that. Remember the story of Limpet the Limp who wished he was Seriph of Al-Kadabra with a harem of a thousand beauties and was henpecked to death? Or Osbert the bad tempered who wanted people to leave him in peace and spent the rest of his life all alone in the lost city of EE? The universe is very big on irony, or so Albert says."

-----

Even the longest night of the year comes to a end eventually.

The blue and green and octarine streamers of the aurora corialis faded, and so did the stars and the sky brightened from black to pewter gray, shading to silver in the east. Lily got to her feet. "Uncle should be back any minute now."

Norby's head turned sharply. "What was that?"

"I don't -" Lily began, but then she did. "Oh no!" It was the yelping of dogs, faint with distance but getting closer and louder every heartbeat. "They must have unfrozen."

Norby shook his head. "No, it's coming from the other direction. I don't think it can be the same party."

The Hogfather threw his head up and snorted in alarm. "Don't run, Father!" Norby called to him urgently. "We'll protect you. Lily, can you freeze this lot like the last one?"

"I don't know," she answered nervously. "I don't know how I did it the first time! We're still in the magic place, I might - but I don't know." The last word was almost wailed.

"Just do your best." Norby looked around, spotted a stout but not too tall oak sapling and pulled it from the frozen earth, snapping off roots and branches to make a crude quarter staff.

The dogs came streaming over the hill where the Castle of Bones had once stood. They were hound shaped but a uniform gray color from muzzle to tail and very, very big.

STOP! Lily cried.

It didn't work. The hounds came on alone, with no sign of following hunters. Lily turned and ran to the Hogfather, stamping and snorting, his back to a big pine, and threw her arms around his neck holding on with all her might. "Don't run!" she shouted in his ear. "My uncle - Death - will be here soon. We've got to wait for him!" But the gods alone knew if the Hogfather understood what she was telling him.

Norby ran to meet the lead hound, oaken staff whirling around his head. The knobby, dirty end where the roots had been clouted the dog full in the chest, lifting it off its feet and hurling it aside.

It twisted in midair and landed on its feet, still making for the Hogfather. "Stop!" Lily shrieked, knowing it wouldn't work. Norby started to run towards them and another dog leapt on his back flattening him face first into the snow. Lily shrieked again and the Hogfather pulled free of her and took off, running - or rather flying low- through the trees The dogs streamed after him completely ignoring Lily.

She ran to Norby and turned him over. A trickle of blood was running from the corner of his mouth. Lily gasped in horror. She knew her narrative conventions, she knew that was bad.

IT IS NOT YET HIS TIME.

With a sob of relief Lily turned to fling herself into bony arms. "Uncle! The Hogfather, we found him but -"

I KNOW. DO NOT FEAR. I HAVE A PLAN. Death snapped his fingerbones.

And Lily found herself in the purple and black spare bedroom at home with Norby lying bleeding on the bed. ALBERT!

About five seconds later the door slammed open and Albert hurtled in, the bell on his pixie cap ringing like an alarm. "What? Miss Lily? Ah, boy got himself hurt did he?"

Lily subsided, weak with relief, into a chair. Albert would know what to do.

He certainly did. A brisk examination of his patient showed that Norby had nothing worse then some cracked ribs. The blood was coming from a badly bitten lip that rapidly swelled to twice its normal size. Albert wrapped the ribs and settled down to pull oak splinters out of Norby's hands. "Make yourself useful, Miss, bring us the bottle you'll find in my bedside drawer."

It was a fat smoky brown bottle, half full of something brown and smoky. The label said 'The MacAbre, finest malt' - whatever that meant. Apparently it meant something special. Albert's face was lugubrious - well more so than usual - as he poured a couple of fingers of the smoky brown liquid into a tooth glass. "It's quite a sacrifice I'm making here, I want you to know," he told Lily and the now conscious Norby. "This is the best stuff there is, it is. The Master gave it to me two - no three - Hogswatches ago. I only take a sip or so on very special occasions. But this lad needs something to warm him up and in his condition Bearhugger's usual piss might kill him dead."

Norby sipped cautiously at the liquid, which tasted rather as if whatever fire had supplied the smoke had been liquified and bottled.

"Thank you, Albert," Lily hugged him, tobacco ashes, bottle and all. "That's very generous of you."

"Yeah," he said dryly, corking his diminished supply of malt whisky. "That's me, generous to a fault."

"And kind." Lily said firmly.

"Kind? Me?" He cleared his throat uncomfortably, color high behind the stubble. "Well... uh...maybe a bit, every now and again." He turned abruptly to his patient. "How are you feeling now, boy?"

"Warm," Norby said. "Hot even," he yawned. "And sleepy."

Albert nodded. Thought so, it takes beginners like that. You have a little nap, boy. We'll wake you up when Hogswatch dinner is ready."

----

Lily followed Albert down the stairs and into his kitchen. "After all you've done tonight you're going to cook us a Hogswatch dinner? Albert you really are a marvel!"

"Well..." Albert hesitated a moment, then shrugged. "Truth is the Master will be bringing most of it up from the Disk but I thought I'd finish that cranberry jam I started and fry up a pudding."

Lily blinked. "You can fry a plum pudding?"

"You can fry anything," Albert said firmly. "Here, make yourself useful and cut up those plums."

Lily settled at the kitchen table with a knife as Albert started collecting ingredients from various cupboards and boxes. "Albert," she said, as he reached down a pot of honey. "Why don't you ever use the black honey? It's delicious."

"What, eat the honey of Death's bees, you balmy?" The other shoe dropped and Albert whirled on her clutching the stirring spoon to his concave chest. "How'd you know how it tastes?"

"Because I've been eating it of course," Lily answered calmly. "I always take an apple and a comb of honey for a snack on my rides. The bees don't mind."

Albert dropped into a chair as if his knees had given way. "You've been eating Death's honey AND his apples?" he asked, voice rising several shrill decibels.

"Yes," Lily looked worried. "I didn't think he'd mind."

"Mind? Good gods girl, who cares about that? You've been eating Death's honey and apples!"

"I know," Lily said, confused. "But if he doesn't mind -"

"I'd have expected you to know better, Lily. You've read all the right books. You've heard of Pomagrantina haven't you?"

"The nymph who ate an apple off one of the trees in Dadas' underworld," Lily said promptly. "But what's that got to do with anything?"

"She ate the apple and couldn't ever go back to the Disk that's what!"

"But that doesn't apply here," Lily insisted. "Uncle is Death, not some god of death and we eat things from the gardens all the time, not to mention the eggs."

Albert was shaking his head. "That's different. The plants in my garden were grown from real seeds brought from the Disk. The hens are real hens laying real eggs. The Master made the bees and apples. They're part of him, part of Death!"

Well that was all right then. Lily knew very well Death would never do anything to hurt her. "You're getting all worked up over nothing, Albert," she soothed. "I've been eating them for months and nothing bad has happened. I haven't turned into a skeleton and I'm not stuck here, I've been down to the Disk dozens of times, you know that."

"Well..." Albert squinted at her uncertainly. "You do look all right," he decided after a long scrutiny.

"I am all right." Lily picked up her knife and started quartering plums again. "Now make your pudding, Albert."


	6. Chapter 6

After quartering the plums Lily left the kitchen. Watching Albert at work was not conducive to a good appetite. She busied herself completing the decoration of the parlor and dining room, which had been interrupted by the crisis, and setting the table with the best china, silver and crystal and a centerpiece of holly.

She had just popped back into the parlor to admire the tree, illuminated with little blue flamed candles, when she heard the sound of bells growing louder as the source drew nearer. Running outside she saw the Hogfather's sleigh, drawn by its four mighty boars, arch gracefully through the hard bright stars of the domain's eternally black sky and come to a perfect four point landing on the Lawn of Eternal Wandering and Croquet.

The Hogfather, big as life and four or five times more natural, climbed out and heaved a large sack over his shoulder. Lily hurtled directly into him and threw her arms around the big belly in tears of relief and joy.

"Ho, Ho, Ho." A big hand mussed her hair. "There, there little Lily, all's well now. Merry Hogswatch!"

"Merry Hogswatch!" She let go, wiped her eyes and saw Death climbing carefully out of the other side of the sleigh carrying a large, angular package clumsily wrapped in a garish red and green paper of dubious taste. A couple of pixies hopped down both carrying huge trays with appetizing smells escaping from under their big gold covers.

Norby met them in the hall, tumbling down the stairs in one of Albert's nightshirts. "Father!" he threw himself into the Hogfather's arms. "Thank the gods, thank the gods!"

"Thank you rather, son. And thank Death and his man and little Lily here. Ho, Ho, Ho!" the Hogfather laughed. "Come, come, no tears. This is a merry day! Help me with the presents and then step outside and let the lads see you're safe and sound. They've been worrying about you."

The Hogfather and Norby disappeared into the parlor with the sack and Lily directed the two pixies to the dining room then looked dubiously up at the package her uncle was carrying. "Is that for me?"

NO. IT IS FOR ALBERT. Death seemed very pleased with himself. WHERE IS HE?

"The kitchen, frying his pudding."

GOOD. Death went into the parlor too.

Lily looked after him for a moment then skipped upstairs to put on her best dress and fix her hair, half tumbled down and copiously shedding hairpins.

When she came down again she found a traditional hogswatch dinner, complete to the apple in the pig's mouth, laid out in the dining room and Albert just coming in with his fried pudding on a silver slaver decorated with the ubiquitous skull and crossbones motif.

"That looks delicious, Albert," she said, and meant it. The pudding was perhaps rather flat on top but it was a lovely glistening brown all over and if it smelled more of bacon than plums that just made it more appropriate to the season, didn't it?

Albert shifted his stub of a cigarette to the other side of his mouth and grinned. "Told you didn't I? frying is good for everything."

"Here, let's put it in pride of place in between the pig head and the centerpiece so everybody can admire it." She looked over the table and saw extra places had been set. "Oh lovely, the Hogfather and Norby must be staying for dinner."

"Mm, better change my coat then," Albert vanished.

Lily closed the door carefully behind him, because of the cats, then went through to the parlor. The tree was now banked with brightly wrapped packages of all shapes and sizes, including the big garish one Uncle had brought, and three lumpy stockings lay on the hearthrug, to full and heavy to hang from their hooks. Looking through the window she saw Norby out on the lawn, now wearing Uncle's black and purple dressing gown brocaded with - you guessed it - a tasteful pattern of skulls and cross bones over his nightshirt, feeding the Hogfather's boars candied apples and sugar plums.

Lily opened the window. "Norby! dinner's on the table." He waved to show he'd heard, gave his charges a last pat and headed round the house to the front door.

---

Uncle sat in his usual place at the head of the table, a paper party hat perched on his skull. The Hogfather had Lily's usual place at the foot. She sat with her back to the fireplace with Norby opposite her.

"What about Albert?" she asked suddenly, as the Hogfather began carving. "He can't eat alone in the kitchen on Hogswatch!"

HE IS NOT ALONE. THE HOGFATHER'S PIXIES ARE KEEPING HIM COMPANY.

Lily silently hoped that the pixies liked fry up.

While they tucked into roast pork, fried sausages, and of course fried plum pudding Uncle told the Hogfather and Norby and Lily everything they had missed. It was quite a lot.

"He used the children's teeth?" Lily was half shocked, half impressed. "That was clever. Evil but clever."

THE TWO OFTEN GO TOGETHER.

"But what about the Tooth Fairy? We've got to keep that going too." Norby worried.

DO NOT FEAR. SHE - IT - HAS BEEN REPLACED. THE BUSINESS WILL CARRY ON AS USUAL.

"Ho, Ho, Ho! Excellent, everything back to normal then," the Hogfather chortled through a mouthful of Albert's cranberry jelly.

YES.

Uncle sounded a bit sad, Lily thought. He had enjoyed playing the Hogfather. Being Death was rather a downer, he needed these little holidays.

After eating as much as they could hold the party adjourned to the parlor. Lily rang and they were joined by Albert, looking cheerful and smelling of his 'Mcabre Single Malt', and the two pixies who seemed rather unsteady on their little feet.

Everybody opened their presents. Lily's were mostly clothes - which would have disappointed her dreadfully just a few years ago but now delighted her - and books. Lots of books. There a was a black velvet smoking jacket with quilted satin collar and a pair of matching slippers for Uncle, and a miniature sleigh with four tiny boars that actually flew and seemed to delight him. Albert was immensely pleased with his new copper bottomed pans and clothes wringer.

Death pushed the big, clumsily wrapped package towards his man. THIS IS FROM ME, ALBERT. MERRY HOGSWATCH. HO. HO. HO.

Norby jumped, the Hogfather did his best not wince, and Lily sighed. Death just wasn't constructed for Ho, Ho, Hos.

Under all the layers of paper was a rocking horse. A very large and wonderfully realistic rocking horse. A splendid present for a small child but for an aged man servant and former wizard, not so much.

Albert stared at it, jaw sagging so that his perpetual butt fell out onto the carpet. That didn't worry Lily, she knew with Uncle's help the carpet would be good as new. Anyway she was to busy worrying about what Albert would say. Uncle was looking at him so.. so expectantly. If he didn't get just the right reaction he'd be crushed. Death, Lily had learned in the months she'd lived with him, was really very sensitive. His ribcage might be empty but his metaphorical heart bruised easily.

After what seemed like a very long time Albert closed his mouth, swallowed, and piped his eye. "That's...that's nice, Master. In fact it's... well it's probably the nicest thing anybody ever did for me."

Death beamed. Lily sighed in relief.

----

After that everybody relaxed and enjoyed themselves. Albert rode his rocking horse, knees drawn practically up to his ears. The pixies went to sleep in the piles of wrapping paper. The Hogfather drank sherry and smoked his pipe. Lily tried on and showed off her new clothes and once, as she came through the door, Norby grabbed her and kissed her - because of the mistletoe and because of what they'd been through together - which gave her a very pleasant tingly feeling right down to her toes.

After a while, and a number of sugar piggywigs, Lily noticed that Uncle was no longer lying on the carpet playing with his sleigh and went looking for him. She found him by the terrace wearing his new smoking jacket over his robe, his pipe between his teeth, grey-white smoke coiling upward from the bowl and his eyeholes.

"Uncle, I thought you meant to ask Susan to join us?"

I DID. SHE COULD NOT COME. HER EMPLOYERS NEEDED HER.

"On Hogswatch?" Lily asked incredulously.

Death looked down at her. The blue points of light in his sockets infinitely distant, infinitely lonely. SHE PREFERS IT. SHE WANTS TO BE NORMAL.

Lily looked through the big bay window into the parlor. Norby was riding the rocking horse now and the Hogfather was laughing, his rich, full 'Ho, Ho, Hos,' clearly audible through the glass. Albert was finishing off the last of the plum pudding and the pixies had woken up and were folding the discarded wrapping paper into ships, houses, trees and a dozen other shapes.

Lily looked back up at Death. "Why?"


End file.
